Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

A long-time member asked, "What about Kumahoku Company?"

"Zheng Daoyuan has backed down, but he won't give up." Jiang Yi sneered. "He has Shen Yanhui's file and technological reserves that we can't get our hands on. He will definitely try every means to re-establish contact with Shen Hanzhou."

"Keep an eye on the known strongholds of the Xiongbei Company's Lieyang branch. If Zheng Daoyuan's men make a move, we'll follow suit."

He stubbed out his cigarette and lowered his voice even further.

"But we can't fight them head-on. We don't have heavy weapons, and we can't defeat the Five Mountains Society and the Xiongbei Society in a direct confrontation."

The veteran member's expression changed: "You mean—"

"Wait," Jiang Yi coldly uttered a single word.

"Let Shen Hanzhou and Yan Tingyao's men clash first, or let Zheng Daoyuan's men clash first. Once they start fighting, Shen Hanzhou will have exhausted one wave of enemies, and the pursuers will be weakened—then we'll enter the fray."

An old member blurted out: "It's a case of double-crossing."

"Right." Jiang Yi shoved the cigarette butt into the ashtray with such force that it felt like he was crushing bones. "If we can't win in a head-on fight, we'll just wait for them to die first. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. It's not a new concept, but it works."

He walked to the map and drew a circle around Guangyang City with his finger: "Shen Hanzhou is now the most valuable asset in Lieyang Province."

"Fang Li and six others died at his hands. This means he has something that can overthrow an entire extermination team. I don't know what it is. But whatever it is, Yan Tingyao wants it, and Zheng Daoyuan wants it too."

"Yan Tingyao wants the prisoners alive to report to headquarters. Zheng Daoyuan wants them alive to study their capabilities."

Jiang Yi turned around, his eyes filled with icy killing intent and greed: "I want it too."

"Whether he uses his abilities, his helpers, or some other evil thing to deal with the Five Mountains Society—as long as I get my hands on him, I can figure it out. Once I figure it out, I'll have a way to control the next one."

"At that time, Chiji will no longer need to be subservient to the Five Mountains Society, nor will he need to be a gofer for the Xiongbei Society. The underworld of Lieyang Province will be reshuffled."

He sat back down at the table, picked up his pen, and quickly wrote a mobilization order for the entire organization. The pen tip struck the paper with such force that it left a mark on the back of the paper.

After finishing writing, he threw the pen down. The pen rolled to the edge of the table and fell to the ground, but Jiang Yi didn't pick it up.

He stood up and handed the mobilization order to the veteran members.

"One last thing."

He opened the drawer and took out a bound agreement—a tripartite cooperation agreement signed by Chiji, Wuyue Society, and Xiongbei Company. The official seals of the three organizations were stamped side by side at the bottom of the cover.

Jiang Yi stared at the agreement for a full ten seconds. He turned to one of the pages and pointed to a clause on it.

"Intelligence sharing, joint operations, and equal distribution of spoils." He read it aloud, his tone like that of someone reading an obituary. "The premise of tripartite cooperation is equal distribution of benefits. But there's only one Shen Hanzhou. Neither Yan Tingyao nor Zheng Daoyuan will give him to me."

He slammed the agreement down on the table.

"From this moment forward, this agreement is null and void. If Yan Tingyao's men dare to block my way, I'll devour them all. If Zheng Daoyuan's men dare to intercept me, I'll make sure they never return."

The veteran member received the mobilization order, his hands trembling.

Jiang Yi stared at him: "Go and do it."

The old member turned to leave. As he reached the door, Jiang Yi called out to him.

Jiang Yi stood by the window, his back to the door. Outside were low-rise buildings and crisscrossing power lines in the old city. The afternoon sun peeked through the gaps in the clouds, cutting out patches of light and shadow on the floor.

His silhouette appeared thin and stiff in the dappled sunlight, like an old bamboo stalk forced into a corner.

"Shen Hanzhou."

He spoke out to the window, his voice low, each word uttered through clenched teeth.

"I can't sleep until you're dead."

------

Old Cigarette Repair Shop, ostensibly a used car repair shop, is actually an underground intelligence trading point in Lieyang Province.

At this moment, Old Yan was sitting behind the counter of the repair shop, with two wanted posters spread out in front of him.

The one on the left is from the Five Mountains Alliance, offering a reward of 50 million, with priority given to those who are alive.

The one on the right is from Xiongbei Company, offering a reward of 30 million, only for the person who is alive.

Old Yan stared at those two numbers for a long time, tapping his fingers on the counter, one tap at a time, the rhythm slow and heavy.

Eighty million.

His heart was beating much faster than the rhythm of his fingers.

What does 80 million mean? He worked as an intelligence broker in Guangyang City for 20 years, and the total amount of deals he handled was less than a fraction of that.

The Five Mountains Society is offering 50 million for Shen Hanzhou's head to live, while the Xiongbei Society is offering 30 million. Combined, Shen Hanzhou's head is worth 80 million.

The old man flicked out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled smoke from his nostrils, blurring the numbers on the two bounty posters in front of him.

His mind raced behind the smoke.

Eighty million is enough for him to disappear completely.

Get a new face, buy a villa in the south, and you won't have to do anything for the rest of your life.

No more sitting behind the repair shop counter staring at encrypted channels every day, no more dealing with those bloodthirsty people in the underworld, no more reaching for a gun at the sound of footsteps in the back alley in the middle of the night.

Old Yan flicked the ash into the enamel mug, looked up from the wanted poster, and glanced at the counter.

On the counter was a wooden sign that read "Twenty Years of Honest Business Practices," the six characters of which had turned slightly yellow from the smoke.

He stared at the sign for a few seconds, his lips twitching—an uncontrollable spasm of muscle.

He has operated with integrity for twenty years. He's been an intelligence broker in Guangyang City for twenty years, relying solely on his tight-lipped nature.

The employer trusted him because he never revealed any information about his clients.

His peers respected him because he had stood firm in this precarious underground world for twenty years without any major incidents.

Old Yan put a cigarette in his mouth and picked up his phone to browse the information broker channel.

It exploded as soon as it was opened.

Normally, the encrypted channel only receives about a dozen new messages a day. Today, in just half a day, the message list has already gone through two pages.

The intelligence broker "Old Zhou" posted three messages in the channel, each marked with urgency and high price, and the content was exactly the same: He wanted Shen Hanzhou's movements within three days, and he would accept any clues. The price was negotiable. If you have any information, please send a private message.

"A-Gui" followed up with an even more direct message: Does anyone have Shen Hanzhou's whereabouts before he was in the abandoned industrial area? I'll trade other information for it. I'm not picky, I'll take anything.

Old Yan continued flipping through the pages.

Some people went to the internal channels of the Public Security Bureau to dig out police records, some were urgently requesting backups of surveillance footage from the area surrounding the abandoned industrial zone, and some were going through the records of illegal drug transactions over the past three years in an attempt to uncover Shen Hanzhou's network of connections.

More and more people are sending messages, each one marked with "urgent," "high reward," or "exclusive," and each one more urgent than the last.

Old Yan tossed his phone onto the counter and flicked off the ash.

Damn it, they've all gone mad.

Having spent twenty years in the underworld, this was the first time I'd ever seen everyone move at the same time.

Normally, these brokers each do their own thing and keep to themselves.

Some sell logistics intelligence, some sell security deployments, and some specialize in making fake documents. They are polite to each other but never interfere in other people's business.

These are the rules, and those who break them will be ostracized by the entire group.

Who cares about rules anymore?

Everyone rushed to the same point and sent a bunch of messages that were all nonsense.

No one had Shen Hanzhou's exact location, no one knew where he was now, and everyone wanted to get the same answer but no one got it.

Old Yan thought to himself, "These guys always claim to have something in their hands, but when it really comes down to it, they're all just empty talk."